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Music the fiercest grief can charm,
And make despair and madness please:
And antedate the bliss above.
And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound.
ODE ON SOLITUDE.
Written when the Author was about Twelve
APPY the man whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
Bless'd, who can unconcern'dly find
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.
VITAL spark of heavenly flame!
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
The world recedes; it disappears!
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O death! where is thy sting?
To Sir William Trumbal.
IRST in these fields I try the silvan strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's blissful plains: Fair Thames! flow gently from thy sacred spring, While on thy banks Sicilian Muses sing;
Let vernal airs through trembling osiers play,
You, that too wise for pride, too good for pow'r, Enjoy the glory to be great no more,
And, carrying with you all the world can boast,
Soon as the flocks shook off the nightly dews,
Streph.Sing then,and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain : Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow; Here western winds on breathing roses blow. I'll stake yon lamb, that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing shade surveys. Daph. And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, And swelling clusters bend the curling vines:
Four figures rising from the work appear,
And what is that, which binds the radiant sky,
Dam. Then sing by turns, by turns the Muses sing; Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring; Now leaves the trees, and flowers adorn the ground: Begin, the vales shall every note rebound.
Streph. Inspire me, Phœbus! in my Delia's praise, With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays: A milk-white bull shall at your altars stand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand. Daph. O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes: No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart. Streph. Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found.
Daph. The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green; She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen; While a kind glance at her pursuer flies, How much at variance are her feet and eyes! Streph. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Blest Thames's shores the brightest beauties yield, Feed here, my lambs, I'll seek no distant field.
Daph. Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves ; Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves:
If Windsor-shades delight the matchless maid,
Streph. In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love,
Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.
Dam. Cease to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree
To Dr. Garth.
A Shepherd's boy (he seeks no better name)
Led forth his flocks along the silver Thame, Where dancing sun-beams on the waters play'd, And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring shade.. Soft as he mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow, The flocks around a dumb compassion show,